Less Talk, More Action
by la-rubinita
Summary: Stole a grid from spn30 snapshots on LiveJournal. A collection of Max/Alec drabbly thingies of various ratings and genres, though mostly romance.
1. 1 Inhale

1. Inhale

She's a warm weight at his side, the soft puffs of her breath caressing his skin. The sheets are rough and abused and threadbare, but in the early morning sunlight, they still make the caramel tones of her skin glow. Here, there are no lines furrowing her brow, no defensive glares, no sarcastic eye-rolls. There's no one to fight, nothing to prove, and it makes his heart both hurt and soar to know that he's probably the only person in the whole world who's ever seen her so unguarded. Because there's nothing here in this room but peace, and she knows it even in her sleep. Maybe _only_ in her sleep.

Alec watches Max, the even rise and fall of her chest, and wonders that she trusts him that much.

He wraps his arms around her waist, and she snuggles her face into the crook of his neck.

Inhale. Exhale. Just breathe.


	2. 2 Tell

2. Tell

She can't really bring herself to tell him. It's not that she doesn't want to, or that it's not true, she just… can't. Every time she tries, the words get stuck in her throat like old peanut butter or stale beer, and she usually ends up just walking away.

Max is ordinarily very good at walking away, but this is frustrating, because she's tired of walking away from him. She's tired of seeing that look on his face every time she does - half disappointment, half patience – like it was expected but still burned. And she's especially tired of feeling like such a fucking girl.

It's just three little words.

And she really does love him. For a lot of reasons, but mostly how she knows she doesn't have to say it, because he just gets her. Reads her like an open book no matter how well she hides what she's thinking and feeling from everybody else. She and Logan - they were always missing each other. Same book, different page. Right place, wrong time. Wrong place, right time. Whatever.

It isn't like that with Alec, and Max knows that every time she chokes on those three stupid, fucking words that Alec will brush a soft kiss across her forehead before she bolts. Then he lets her go because he _knows, _and it's enough.


	3. 3 Lurk

3. Lurk

Alec knows Max has a thing about losing people. She's lost almost everyone she's ever cared about, and lives in constant fear of losing those she hasn't yet. Zack, Ben, Tinga, Logan. All the people she tried to help, but couldn't. All the people Liedecker and White hurt or killed trying to track her and her siblings down.

Max talks a big game about the world being a dog-eat-dog place, and how bad shit happens, but Alec knows that she blames herself for all of it. Even the things over which she had no control.

She walks around Terminal City like the fearless leader she wants everyone to believe she is, but Alec knows her fears; knows what ugly things lurk in the shadows, waiting to ambush when she least expects to drag her into the darkness with them.

He'll never tell her, but he swore a long time ago that he'd always be there with a flashlight, ready to drag her back out.


	4. 4 Scrub

Sooo... it's been a while. My bad. Beta'd by AlchemyNerd. She's still awesome.

x

4. Scrub

Alec felt her get out of bed, and he heard the shower start up down the hall. It wasn't unusual for Max to shower in the middle of the night. She'd always been a bottler, and Alec got that. Like if she dealt with shit as it came it would overwhelm her, make her lose her focus, and she felt there was just too much at stake to let that happen. The showers were her escape, her coping mechanism, and Alec got that, too.

That's why Alec never let on he knew. He let her have her private moments.

Until he heard her crying. Max hadn't cried since the night she told him about Ben. That was over a year ago, now.

Silently, Alec slid out of bed and padded down the hall. He hesitated at the door to the bathroom, uncertain. Even after all this time he still didn't always know how Max would respond. But her quiet sobs did something funny to his chest and he was standing in the middle of the bathroom before his brain had a chance to shut him down.

The curtain was open and Max was sat in the shower with her knees drawn up to her chest. The skin of her arms was angry and red, scratch marks marring her flesh from shoulder to wrist, and her hands shook as she tried to hide her face from him. The runes Sandeman programmed into Max's DNA stood out in stark relief against her abused skin.

"Max—"

"I tried to scrub them off," she said, looking at him. "This isn't who I want to be, Alec." She swallowed hard. "I'm so tired."

"I know, Maxie," Alec replied crouching next to the tub. He cut off the water and brushed a lock of wet hair away from her forehead, astounded that she hadn't just told him to piss off.

"Why me?" she said, shaking her head lightly. "Why couldn't it have been Sam, or any of the other fucking photocopies I have floating around out there? Why did he pick _me_? Why do _I_ have to save the world?"

Alec shrugged. "So don't. Let's go to Aruba, instead."

Max gave him her own patented death-glare, tears gone, and he smiled.

"That's why he picked you. I don't know how he knew, but he knew you'd care enough to try. Or maybe it is some kind of destiny."

Alec trailed a knuckle down the length of her arm and back up, her skin hot to the touch beneath his. He lingered on a cluster of runes near her shoulder.

"Besides," he said, "I think they're kind of sexy."

Max rolled her eyes and shoved him away, but a smile tugged at her lips.

"Asshole."

Alec kissed her, wrapping his fingers around the nape of her neck, then pressed his forehead to hers.

"Yeah, but you kinda like it. Go on, admit it."

Max laughed. "Never."


End file.
